Brynhildr
by RandyPandy
Summary: In which Prince Owain, when exploring, finds a special tome named Brynhildr. -Part 1 of Heirs of Legend-


_Just an idea I got. I do have ideas for the other Fates legendary weapons, too, but whether I'll write them is a different story._

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**Brynhildr**

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Plegia Castle had so many secret passages that Prince Owain loved exploring.

After Grima had been defeated, numerous affairs had been settled, such as who would become the ruler of Plegia. After much discussion, it had been decided that Robin would take the throne. He was Plegian by blood, in either case, and the Plegian citizens had been wary of the war ever since Emmeryn's martyr act.

His wife, Lissa, had joined him, as had their future children, Owain and Morgan. Plegia was a little less sure about having family of Ylisse's Exalt in the country, but Lissa's marriage to Robin allowed for a peace treaty to be forged between Plegia and Ylisse, and thus far, things had been going well. Hopefully, despite the small pockets of rebellion that popped up time-to-time, it would continue forth in this manner.

However, Owain wasn't thinking about that at the moment.

The passage that he was going down had been hidden, only found when he had sneezed and accidentally planted his hand on a specific stone in the castle.

After scurrying back to grab a torch, he had excitedly slipped down the passage, down the steps - he had lost count ages ago just how many there were - and had traveled through. It was very dusty, as if the passage had not been used in a very long time, and the fact that he was probably the first person to step down here in generations made him feel giddy.

"Who knows what manner of things have been hidden away down here!" he gushed to nobody as he used the torch to light the way, one hand on the wall as he stepped down.

A legendary sword, perhaps, worthy of rivaling Falchion or his beloved Missletainn itself? (Missletainn was no legendary weapon and was very dull, he had sadly discovered, but he still loved it and had kept it in his room).

Perhaps forbidden books detailing the arcane arts? Owain had known that both of his parents were capable of magic back in his timeline, but with the majority of tomes having being destroyed, he had never had a chance to hone his magical capabilities.

Perhaps scions of darkness (in other words, the Grimleal) had been performing rituals here that needed to be vanquished before it was too late?

Owain paused when his torch shone on a door. It appeared to be bolted shut, but the locks were rusty, and Owain was sure that if he just nudged it just right... Using one hand to shine the torch, he tugged at the bolts, grinning victoriously when it simply fell apart and the door creaked open. "Nailed it! Nothing can keep Owain Dark from vanquishing even the most befuddling of entrapments!"

Slipping inside the room, he moved his torch around so that he could see what was inside of it. It looked even more unused than the passage had, though there were still objects. A desk sat in one corner, with a chair beside of it. Next to it was a bookshelf that appeared to only have one book on it. In another corner was a chest whose lock had been sprung open. Owain darted over to the chest, nearly slipping on the threadbare remains of the rug underneath his feet, and threw it open, inspecting the insides.

Nothing interesting. He sifted through what appeared to be some pieces of parchment that crumpled almost as soon as he touched them, some rusted coins, and some articles of clothing, but other than that, there wasn't so much as even a dagger or anything that he would consider interesting. Shrugging, he scooped up the coins and pocketed them. Maybe once they were cleaned, they would still be valid currency for today.

Now that the chest had been taken care of, he turned his attention to the desk and bookshelf. The desk had nothing on it aside from an empty inkwell, but his attention was suddenly drawn to the book that was on the shelf. Shining his light on it, he could tell that it was a tome, colored dark purple and black, and he could almost feel it pulsing with energy. Almost hypnotized, he stepped towards it, reaching one finger out to brush against its dusty spine.

His heart pounded at the brief spark of energy that shot through him.

"What sort of mystical object of darkness might you be...?" he murmured. Setting the torch down in the inkwell (it looked like it would hold its weight and keep it upright), he plucked the tome off of the shelf.

That spark of energy was back, and Owain shuddered. He had always gotten excited about finding some legendary weapon, but the tome in his hands... he knew that he had uncovered something truly special. Something ancient and mysterious, older than this castle, perhaps even older than Falchion itself.

He gazed down at the tome in his hands, unable to comprehend the sensation that was moving through him, and he knew that he had to bestow an amazing name on this tome. But what sort of name was worthy of it? Certainly not the Sacred Tome of Abyss, that was far too mundane.

Before he could make up his mind, he felt something in his very soul respond to the surge of power that had gone through him. The tome appeared to be welcoming him back, as if he and it were old friends (preposterous - he'd never seen this book before!), and his lips moved on their own.

_"Brynhildr."_

His vision was filled with trees and life.

* * *

When Owain decided to travel through time with Anankos and had shed his identity as a Myrmidon Prince of Plegia to become the Dark Mage Odin, he had left Brynhildr behind in his quarters, tucked away safe and sound from any prying eyes. He wasn't sure if he would ever return, and bringing such a sacred object with him could have possibly painted a target on his back.

Then he met Prince Leo of Nohr and saw Brynhildr in his arms, and he knew that he had made the right decision.

"Lord Leo!" he had gushed at him a few days after being sworn in as his retainer. "What mystical object of darkness is that?"

Leo had blinked before readopting that clinical, disinterested look that he had had around Odin lately, but he would not be deterred. "This? This is my tome, Brynhildr. And no, you may not wield it, Odin. Only the royal family can."

"How exciting! Truly, a worthy name for such a sacred tome!" He beamed at Leo, who was eyeing him warily now, before asking, "Are there any tasks that require the assistance from a legendary hero of darkness?"

"Actually, yes," Leo had said; Odin noticed that he had started to mouth 'no' before abruptly switching to a yes. Odd. "There are these rumors about the Woods of the Forlorn..."

After hearing the whole story, he had happily bounded off to take care of those spirits in the Woods. It wouldn't be a problem; he was _happy_ to help out someone that Brynhildr considered worthy, after all.

* * *

The three of them had been sent out on a simple scouting mission from their camp in Valla and it had gone horribly wrong.

Leo's leg was broken, and his horse had fled out of terror (not that he could blame the poor animal, but Leo would have been able to escape easier had the horse been here). Niles's quiver of arrows was empty, and Odin's tomes had been ripped apart into uselessness with some well-time swipes from the Vallites. The white-haired man had picked Leo up and was trying to cart him away as the Vallites bore down on them, but as strong as Niles was in hand-to-hand combat, he wouldn't be able to save Leo if the Vallites caught up.

When Leo had fallen off of his horse, his tomes had gone flying into a ravine, and Brynhildr had landed on the ground not too far from them. Leo had wanted to go get it, but his broken leg and being more worried about his life had made it impossible for him to retrieve it.

Odin knew that if he didn't do something, anything, then they were all going to die, right here and now, and that sent a stab of fear through his heart. He could not let Leo die.

His eyes landed on Brynhildr, laying there innocently as if it was a simple tome and not one of the five legendary weapons created by the Rainbow Sage, and Odin, like he had many years ago, felt it call to him. Making up his mind, he scrambled to his feet and ran towards the tome, scooping it up into his arms and flipping it open as he heard Niles call to him.

"You moron! Get your ass over here before you get yourself killed!"

The surge of power that shot through him, familiar by now, was welcoming, and he had the sense that the tome was humming its approval, that one of its Chosen was wielding it.

"Odin! What are you doing?! You can't use it! Stop! It'll kill you if you try! I don't want to lose you!" It was Leo.

He gazed at the Vallites, hearing the screams of his liege and his partner behind him, before he spoke. "Lord Leo. When I swore myself to your service, I promised the sacred oath that I would always be your shield, that our bonds are of blood and can never be torn asunder. I will ensure that you survive this."

While he had not understood before coming to Nohr, Odin understood perfectly now. He understood just who Leo was to him, who he was to Leo, and why Brynhildr had accepted him as its master in the first place. He did his best to channel that love and protectiveness he felt for Leo into his magical core, closing his eyes. He heard Leo and Niles screaming at him again, but Odin, coaxing his magic to the forefront to meld with the tome's magic that was swirling around him, didn't respond as he opened his mouth.

_"Brynhildr."_

Their vision was filled with trees and life.

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_Am I implying that Owain/Odin is Leo's very distant descendant? That I am. Here's how I headcanoned it:_

_Dusk Dragon - Garon - Leo - Forrest - Chrom's mother (distant descendant) - Lissa - Owain/Odin_

_I am purposely leaving Leo and Forrest's spouses ambiguous, so headcanon whoever you please._


End file.
